Troubles of More than one kind
by alan713ch
Summary: The aftermath of that nightmare spell could not be worse for any of them, even if they still don't understand what's going on. The Sheriff doesn't like McCall being nosey. Lydia doesn't like Stiles' date. Danny can't help but keep lying to his boyfriend. Chris Argent is avoiding the pack. And something happened in the woods that has Peter Hale in a murderous frenzy.
1. Prologue

When he heard the door click, Scott already knew it was Stiles, Lydia and Allison. He could feel their position, almost like he had an internal GPS tracker on them or something. It was a bit creepy if he thought about it. So he didn't. He had wanted to go to them after Isaac had defeated the revenant but The Sheriff's call had been terminal. His father was coming with him and they better not fuck up.

So he and Isaac had to wait back home.

"Allison!"

Isaac got up and went to hug her. Scott felt the pang of jealousy - the fact that they liked each other hurt him, not because he didn't like them together, but because it wasn't him who was with them. He missed Allison too much. It was like she was there - but she wasn't. He focused on Stiles and Lydia, hugging them, letting the alpha in him take them in and comfort them. He saw that Lydia needed it the most and let her bask in it, and then Allison came to him and hugged him too - she also needed the reassurance of her alpha.

He also needed to keep certain body parts of his in check.

He still felt weird though, like the wolf was telling him someone else also needed care.

They went onto the kitchen and made hot cocoa and tea for Lydia and tried to talk about other things. He diverted Stiles several times from asking Isaac about his father - Isaac didn't need to talk about it - and the three of them refrained from discussing the Hales too much beyond the "they helped us deduce it was Greenberg". They avoided the subject of Rafael trying to coax answers from Stiles, Lydia and Allison and they definitely didn't talk about the way the Sheriff had almost threatened Rafael for going too hard on Stiles. No, they talked about school, about how Danny and Alex seemed to be dating now (Lydia was particularly good at chasing that subject) and how had Stiles' date with Lorena been (even if it had been the week before, discussed to all extents and Lydia had already chosen three different outfits for the next date).

Before anybody had to say goodbye Scott proposed that they'd watch a movie on his tv - he'd finally bought a new one with the money he earned at Deaton's. He and Stiles needed somewhere to play XBOX after all.

Lydia somehow got 'The Notebook' on the screen and nobody said anything. He sat in the middle of the couch and Isaac followed him, curling by his side, with Allison spooning the tall blonde guy. Stiles had propped his legs on top of his own and Lydia sat like the queen she was using Stiles as a recliner.

Scott wasn't sure the couch was supposed to contain that many people. He shrugged it off, since the wolf in him relished at it, and it made him feel good. He still couldn't shake the feeling of something missing, but it was less now.

Isaac was the first to fall asleep, with Allison next. Lydia watched the movie until the end, but didn't move when the credits started rolling. At last, it was only Stiles and Scott looking at the screen, which they didn't turn off. They were not sleeping, just not moving.

It felt natural.

"So... these are our lives now, huh?"

"Yeah... I guess..."

"Scott, it was... it was horrible. The bodies. They looked gruesome."

"I know. I can feel it in you."

"And Lydia... I had never heard her scream, you know, the Wailing Woman. I thought you only heard her and felt your spine shiver and stuff but I felt the deaths, their deaths. I felt my throat slashed and that was after I felt my eyes gouged out, my ears ripped off and my jaw broken and removed. Did you guys feel it too, when you heard her?"

"No, we would only hear her scream. I don't know if it's because you are human that you felt all that. Or because you are becoming a druid."

"Bah, I am as much of a druid as my dad is a vegetarian. I can't do jack shit, I carry this bunch of ash in my pocket that I either forget about or can't will to protect us. You heard Morrell - either Deaton is restraining himself too much or I am completely pants at this."

"Stiles, you've been learning for a month, maybe less. The ghost was trying to hurt Deaton. It's alright."

Stiles took a bunch of mountain ash from his pocket and blew it, making a huge mess of ash and soot in front of them. Stiles gave him a look that said 'See?' and he answered with one that said 'You are cleaning that'. Stiles rolled his eyes but then frowned at him.

"Who are you texting?"

Scott hadn't realized he was texting with his right hand, since the left was occupied by Isaac's and Allison's.

"Danny. I just wanted to see if he and Alex were OK."

"You know, we've had this talk before, but we really should be careful. If these are our lives now, we can't destroy Danny's, not now that he's found Alex."

"They've been dating for a couple of weeks."

"It took less time for Ethan to start feeling guilty, remember?"

"I guess we'll never be sure."

Scott frowned at his cellphone. Instead of "'Send' he hit 'Call' and waited for the line to connect. Stiles looked at him but all he could do was shrug.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Danny!"

"Hey, Scott - what's up? Where did you guys go?"

"Er..." Stiles was slashing his throat with his finger, the message quite clear. "Stiles got affected by the weird hysteria thing, thinking he saw his mom..." Stiles threw his hands in the air, a look that clearly meant 'Fuck you'. "So we took him home, to try and keep him from hurting himself, or anyone. Are you alright? Did it affect you?"

"No, I'm fine." Lie. "I wanted to stay at the school but it affected a lot of people so I just left." Lie. "I got home, my mom was alright, my grandpa too, so no problem." Lie. "We just stayed inside until the Sheriff's department gave the get go on the radio." Lie.

"What about Alex?"

"He's fine - I just talked to him. He wouldn't tell me what he saw." Truth.

So Danny was selectively lying. And how could Scott tell the truth from the lies?

Maybe it was the way the voice sounded hoarse, like he'd been crying. Or how it would waver a little bit, like he was thinking what he was going to say.

It didn't matter. All that mattered was that even though he was not OK, he was grieving, which meant he would be OK at some point. At least the wolf was satisfied now.

Hopefully.

"Are you guys alright?"

"Yeah, don't worry about us. Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"Nah, I'm cool. Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Don't worry, man. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure."

Danny was the first to cut the call. Quizzicaly, Stiles raised his eyebrow.

"He was lying, but I'm not sure why..."

"Maybe he didn't feel comfortable with sharing, you know? Who he saw?"

"Wouldn't that be Ethan? I mean, everybody loves Danny."

"As far as we know, we don't know if he had any bad relationships or people from his past - Oh my God, Derek!"

Isaac stirred in his sleep, Stiles' volume reaching levels of non comfortableness. Scott silenced him with a look and then proceeded to feel for Derek inside. He knew he could do that ever since they left, him and Cora, but had never actively pursued it. A small tug inside told him that they were the same, where they were - countryside with sea coming from the East, and cold, so Scott suspected Maine - and that no, they hadn't been affected by anything in the past 24 hrs.

"They are fine. I don't think the spell reached them. It was meant for us: you, me, Allison. Not them."

"But they are important to us. They are Pack. Right?" Stiles added the question like an afterthought. Scott just nodded.

"Don't worry. I can feel them. We should sleep, you know?"

"But I'm too comfy - I don't wanna go to bed."

"I don't think any of us would want to go to bed right now. I think it's something of being pack."

"What, this? Are you saying we are going to start sleeping in puppy piles?"

"Are you complaining? I can bring the old air mattress down."

"Oh no, not that piece of crap." They just smiled at each other, old memories of sleepovers and bed fortresses and roleplaying as Batman and Superman in their heads. And just like old times, Stiles fell asleep with Scott on his side, and when the alpha finally felt his pack safe and sound he slept as well.

He was the first to wake up, covered in blankets. They all were. Someone had cleaned up the mountain ash. Scott started thinking of the tirade he would give Stiles for making his mom work clean up when he realized that a) She never cleaned up after Stiles, that was always his job; and b) there was magic in the walls now. Using his alpha senses he could feel the mountain ash inside the panels all around it. He could also feel the rustle of the leaves outside obeying to it, moving with it, like they were attuned to it. He knew he nor any of his pack would be deterred by it but their enemies would. He looked at his best friend and felt it, the spark Deaton talked about, the imagination and dreams emanating from Stiles. He wondered how powerful his friend truly was. Maybe more than everyone knew.

He could hear his mom and the Sheriff in the kitchen, and the smell of bacon invading the way between them. Stiles would probably get angry at his dad - no, he was not going to sniff him anymore, it was awkward already - but then he realized that their conversation was not a happy one.

He sighed. It was time to grow up and be an Alpha.


	2. The Sheriff

The telephone hadn't stopped ringing. John Stilinski wanted to grab it and throw it against the wall, but that would definitely not work. He already knew what they were calling about - it was probably someone else with questions about the massive hysteria phenomena that happened a few hours ago.

He wished he could honestly answer 'it was magic' and shut them up. Of course, he wouldn't say so even if it was the truth - he needed his job now more than ever to prevent other people finding out about the magic interactions and the fact that his own son ran with wolves. Hell, by the way he felt even more protective of Scott than usual he was now running with wolves.

Prevent people like the boy's own father from finding out.

So grudgingly he answered the phone. Like expected, another call about the epidemic. Yes, the CDC had been alerted - not only by him but the hospital as well. There would not be official declarations at the moments. Yes, the FBI was alerted too, but this being a different case than the one they were called for - the mysterious murders that had happened and the pattern behind them, even if twelve of them were charged onto the serial killer Jennifer Blake - they would not be actively participating in this investigation. After all this was a job for the Center of Disease Control.

As soon as he hung up he got another phone call. He answered his cell phone immediately - it was Stiles.

"Dad! We found some dead bodies."

"Stiles! Where are you?"

"At school - we can't leave the crime scene, someone already called 911 and we were found in the middle of it..."

"Define 'we'"

"Me, Lydia, Allison."

"Was magic involved? Did Lydia wail?"

"Yes - I won't say anymore here, people may look at me weird."

"You three better come up with a story that explains why you were there. I'm on my way."

He hadn't finished talking to his son when one of the new deputies - he still hadn't learn her name, Cho? - motioned that he was needed. Yes, the school was calling to report the bodies - three, one female, two male - and yes, they reported that the ones to find them where four of the students - Stilinski, Argent, Martin and Greenberg. Funny - he didn't think that Richard's family had had any other children and they had moved out a long time ago. The death of their son had been too much on them.

It had been the one event that had rallied Beacon Hills into a much more tolerant place that it was.

The drive to the school was uneventful. After that weird energy blast everybody felt - and after it the CDC had ordered everybody to wear breathing masks and stay inside as much as possible to determine if the infection causing the hallucinations was airborne - no other cases had shown up. Putting the pieces together as much as he could he realized that the children must have found out the cause and stopped it.

The cause probably involved the dead bodies.

When he finally got there he grimaced - Rafael McCall was already there and marching with a purpose. Not just that, but the way he was walking told the Sheriff that he had found something that had finally made sense.

The Sheriff immediately went to look to the man's shoes. They were dirty and had mud and leaves on them, same as the bottom of his pants.

He had been in the forest. And if that little nagging feeling was right, that's the direction Scott and Isaac were coming from.

"Sheriff?" The boy had picked up the cellphone before the first ring had connected.

"Scott - listen to me. Whatever you are doing or wherever you are, don't come to the school."

"But that's where the rest of the pack is - wait, are you on your way there?"

"I'm here, bodies were reported and the Pack," the word tasted awkward in his mouth, "were the ones that found them. Your father is already here and it looks like he knows something. We don't need you to get involved. Go to your house - I'll send everyone else there as soon as we are done."

He could feel the anger in the boy but he whispered a small yes and hung up. He may damn well be the alpha but he was still a child and it was John's responsibility to take care of him.

"Ah, Stilinski, finally here. Is the response time in BHPD so long that an FBI agent who hadn't heard of the case got here before than you?"

"If you didn't know where the case was how did you know about it?"

"A little bird told me."

Fuck, he had interfered the communication at the department. He was listening in.

"So, why don't you just stand there in your little uniform and let the me handle it? Besides, it's not like there wouldn't be a conflict of interest - your son is one of the suspects."

"One of those who found the body. Do not try to make him a suspect just for finding them."

"Well, his hands are bloody, there are shards of glass on his hands - the same shards that are on the bodies and he was right there. That smells suspicious to me."

"In case you didn't notice we just had a wave of air coming from the vicinity of the school. That could explain the shards of glass everywhere."

"You'd have to get someone to do a model of the wave in order to convince me."

"The CDC is already here, I'm pretty sure they have engineers specialized in airborne models."

McCall scowled. So he didn't want the CDC in town? Why?

"I'm still doing the interrogation."

"It's not related to the investigation you are running."

"And how do you know that?"

Now the Sheriff was sure he had scowled. He followed the man to the ambulance where they found the two girls and his son, all three of them wrapped in heavy blankets - apparently they had all gone into some sort of shock after the wave and were recovering from it. Lydia in particular looked terrible.

He wondered how much of the department's resources could he direct into banshee research without raising too many eyebrows. They needed to understand how the girl functioned fast, before they lost her to whatever it is that she was.

"Stilinski. Mrs. Martin. Mrs. Argent. I am - "

"We know who you are. Dad, what is he doing here?"

The Sheriff raised an eyebrow to his son and Lydia immediately grabbed his hand - all signals that he was to shut his mouth.

"Now, Stilinski, don't get mouthy with an officer of the law."

Stiles didn't say anything, just looked like he wanted to murder the agent right there. John was suddenly thankful that his kid hadn't learned how to do that with his mind yet. Or whatever it was that gave him the weird powers Deaton would talk about.

"Alright, you three were found in the crime scene - three dead bodies hanging from the lightpost. And if I recall correctly, Mrs. Martin and Mrs. Argent here were also present a couple of weeks ago when a body was found in the vicinity of the local shopping mall. Why were you guys here?"

"Excuse me, Agent McCall," Lydia spoke first, before Stiles even opened his mouth and Allison looked like she was mulling her answer, "Are we under arrest?"

"No, Mrs. Martin, we are just taking your declaration on the events that transpired here. Why you ask?"

"I won't answer any questions without the presence of my lawyer."

McCall looked at her with murder in his eyes. He couldn't say anything - she was well within her rights to ask for one.

"Are you willing to obstruct a criminal investigation, Mrs. Martin?"

"I'm afraid I won't answer that."

"Fine. Mrs. Argent? Stilinski?"

"Same."

"No lawyer, no answer."

Rafael was fuming.

"Fine - Sheriff, arrest these children for obstruction of justice."

"Sure. Stiles, Lydia, Allison, please follow me."

Lydia did blanch but gingerly raised up and let herself be handcuffed, with the other two behind her. He walked them to his car and hopefully managed to tell them not verbally that they shouldn't talk. He may have included a cuff in the head to his own son as a way to prevent him from doing so.

This was so not going to look good in the quaterly review. After all, he had already lost his job once due to Stiles' ability to be in crime scenes.

He had locked the car and hoped that Lydia would keep Stiles in check.

"Are you sure you should leave them there?"

"Trust me, it is the first time I've ever put my son in the back of that car."

"Hm. Such a pity this will show in his permanent record. He looked like a smart kid."

Bile was boiling inside the Sheriff. Wisely, he shut up.

The deputies directed both of them to the bodies. They were gruesome: one of them had no eyes, the other one was missing both ears and the last one had had his jaw and tongue removed. However, all three of them had been bleeding through a gash in the neck, left to right, pretty much the same one the body they had found a couple of weeks ago had. One's an accident, two's a coincidence, three's a pattern. Four was just fucked up.

So they had a serial killer in their hands. Probably one that was using their murders to do magic.

He mentally filed away a talk with Deaton the next morning. Tonight, if he could get Scott to use that alpha voodoo that he does with his voice.

"What do you think, Stilinski?"

"Well, what I think is that I am going to have a hell of a night. Ramirez, O'Brien, take all three bodies to the morgue - make sure they are checked before tomorrow morning. Muhich, have you taken the testimony of any other witnesses? What do they say?"

"The same thing sir, that they found the Martin girl puking in the lawn, your son helping her, and a kid named Greenberg helping the Argent girl not lose her footing. It seems that she knew the victims."

He could hear McCall muttering 'interesting' even if he was not next to him.

He got to the car and started it. He could see the three teenagers chastised and gave them a very pointed look - he was starting to suspect McCall had the cars bugged if he was willing to listen in the department's frequency. So he just let the rain start to fall while he drove them back into the station for questioning.


	3. Derek

He was running.

Always.

He always loved the beginning of this dream. Running across the woods, feeling the air on his face, laughing like he had no care in the world.

He was always sixteen in the dream. Because like all bad nightmares it started as a good dream.

He dreamed that he was running, playing a game of tag with Laura, the only one old enough to actually play with him even if she was only home for break - or maybe because of it. He would hear her laughing behind him, calling his name and saying what she would do when she would caught up with him.

The part of him that was conscious in this dream was already dreading the beginning of the nightmare.

It would always be the same - he would reach his house, smell the ashes and the cinders, and find it ablaze with all his family inside. He hadn't been there when it had actually happened - he and Laura were at Minnie's, him moping because Kate Argent hadn't shown up to his game when he planned on introducing her to his sister and like the little emo shit he was back then he thought his world had ended. How right had he been - they both felt the distress of their mother, and actually heard the cry of help, the howl that would resonate in their bones until they rescued her - or she died, just like she had. It was in the car when Laura's eyes changed from golden to crimsom blood, and Derek felt compelled to stay with her even more. When they finally got there they found the firemen trying to put the blaze out, the smell of charred flesh in the air and the woods singing an aria of sorrow.

He hated a bit that he was a werewolf because he needed to eat meat, even if it reminded him of that night.

Suddenly, Derek realized he had stopped running, and that never happened. He looked down at himself and saw the hands of the grown man, not the teenager that had murdered his family.

"It is not your fault, you big dunce. I've been trying to tell you that for seven years now."

He looked up. In the porch of a very majestic manor that was definitely not burnt to ashes Laura was smiling at him with her leather jacket and her combat boots.

It had been the first time he had actually dreamed about her since she died.

"Laura?"

"Hey Wreck. Finally done brooding?"

"Don't be a bitch."

"Don't be a mongrel."

He just frowned at her. She stuck her tongue out.

And then they both laughed.

If this was going to be a nightmare it would be particularly heartbreaking. It didn't matter - Derek wanted to hear her laugh again.

"Stop crying, Wreck, you don't look manly when you are crying."

"Lies! I always look manly."

"Particularly when a teenager kicks your ass?"

"What?"

"The ice rink. That puppy kicked your ass."

"No he didn't! I kicked his!"

"He was holding back, I can tell you that."

"Oh, now you are just pushing my buttons."

"Yes, I am."

He had reached her and she just smiled again. He heard her say 'I miss you' in his ear, while he just drunk her scent through his nostrils, his hand going through her hair, tears coming out of his eyes.

Fuck it. It was his dream, he could cry if he wanted. And hug her too.

"Wreck."

"Laura."

"You big baby - I've been trying to get in touch with you for so long and you kept pushing me away."

"What?"

"Anger, despair, loss. Not exactly the best recipe for 'I will always live in your heart'. Trust me, I tried. Apparently mom did too, but we were both fucked up and she couldn't stay either. Made herself a little slice of heaven where she spends all eternity looking at Dad cook and arguing with Grandma Thea who's gonna be the next heir of the Preserve."

"I don't..."

"Understand? Am I going too fast for my Wreck?" She stuck her tongue out again while he pouted. "I was supposed to haunt you until you got your shit together, but it turns out since I was doing it out of love and not revenge I actually needed you to care. To let me in."

"I would've if I've known! If I've known how!"

"Yeah, right. Like you didn't break down when you saw my dead body."

"What did you want me to do? Just shrug at the CUT IN HALF BODY OF MY SISTER?"

"Yeesh, no need to overreact, we are in your head, remember?"

Derek couldn't help but cock his head at her. Questioning. Wondering what was going on.

It was the first time he had dreamed about his sister that actually involved a conversation.

A two way conversation.

"Are you an angel?"

"Nope, no wings."

"A ghost?"

"Uh nuh. I guess I'll settle for spirit. I stopped being a ghost when I was assured that the territory would go to a good alpha."

"When I... no, it wasn't when I killed Peter, was it?"

"Derek, you know I love you with all my ectoplasmic entrails but you were a lousy alpha. I mean, turning broken teenagers? And then using violence to train them? Did you forget how Mom and Dad and Peter used to train us? And even worse - taking Peter back in after what he did to you? To the girl?"

So this was his nightmare, then? To be told off by his sister?

Something must have shown on his face because Laura immediately clipped him behind the ear, like she did whenever they trained together.

"This is not a nightmare, Derek, this is me telling you you fucked up. Own it."

"What was I supposed to do? Run away? Wait for Deucalion to come and claim the last of the Hales? Submit to him so the Demon Wolf would have access to the magic Grandma Thea was always talking about?"

"Oh, please, like you believed those stories!"

"Excuse me, I was raped by a Darach! I think I can believe those stories!"

"You still fucked up BEFORE that happened. You screwed up by turning kids and then basically transforming them into weapons for your own benefit. Because that's what you did."

That was it. It was his dream, or his nightmare - he was not going to take that. He barely could stand having Dr. Remus looking at him, the thing he needed the least right now was his sister telling him how much of a failure he was. So he turned around and started walking away from her.

"Oh no, you don't get to do that!"

Suddenly, she was in front of him again, and she smacked the back of his head this time.

"Ouch! Stop that!"

"Well, stop acting like a fucking sixteen years old and more like the twenty-three you are."

"What do you want? Do you want me to say that I was a failure? That I failed to everyone's expectations? That I'm nothing but a miserable pile of secrets and lies and stupid decisions?"

"Is that what you are? Because the Derek I remembered was stupid as shit and yet he was capable of admitting it. You, on the other hand big boy are nothing but a coward!"

"FINE! I DID IT! I TURNED THEM BECAUSE I WAS ALONE! I WANTED TO FEEL MY FAMILY BACK! I TURNED THEM BECAUSE THEY WERE LIKE ME, LIKE US! ERICA WAS JUST LIKE YOU, AND BOYD REMINDED ME OF ANASTASIA, AND ISAAC REMINDED ME OF PHILLIP! I WANTED YOU BACK! I wanted you back..."

He had fallen to his knees again, crying, just like that first night when he had abandoned therapy. He had had another couple sessions, but they hadn't had that same gut wrenching feel that the first one did. Dr. Remus said that it was OK, that all she needed was an opening and he had given her one, and they had been able to talk about stuff with him not feeling attacked by it. The last session she had given him a homework, he had to stand in front of the mirror and tell himself that he was not guilty of the dead of his family. He had said it out loud, a quiet whisper, once in front of the doctor, and she had taken it as a cue to now try and say it in front of the mirror. Now that he was confronting Laura he could see that if the fire had not been his fault, then the fate of those kids had definitely been. He had turned them out of selfishness, trying to form a little family that would rally with him and protect him against the big bad world just like the Hales did before, but he had forgotten to be responsible about them.

That was the main difference between him and Scott. Scott always took responsibility.

He hadn't realized that Laura was holding him in a tight embrace, until he finally stopped crying and rocking back and fort.

"Sorry. But you needed that."

"What? To break down in the middle of the woods?"

"No - to see what is your fault and what isn't. That way you can own up what you messed up - and move on from what you didn't."

"Wait, are you doing this on purpose?"

"Well, duh! Do you think I enjoy this?"

"Oh my god you are awful!"

"Would've I got the message across just by talking to you?"

If he could've killed her with a glare, he would have.

"See? You are a wreck, Wreck. But hey, I am here now. And I'm not leaving."

"Oh god, you are moving in permanently, aren't you?"

"You bet your ass I am."

"Is this gonna be awkward?"

"Probably."

"What are you?"

"A ghost, a spirit, a memory. Whatever you need me to be, Derek."

"Can you be my sister?"

"I am your sister, you big idiotic dog. Seriously, you and McCall and the tall blond one look like actual human puppies, it's impossible. If anything you scream werepuppies, not werewolves!"

"Scott does look like a puppy. A monstrous teenage puppy."

"Look at yourself, Wreck!"

"I'm a wolf. I'm a big bad wolf!"

He lunged at her the way he did when they were alive and they played and lounged and talked and laughed. And when she finally turned to him when they were sprawled on the dirt and said it was too late he finally woke up with the sun hitting him in the face.

He got up, removing the sheets from his body. He entered his bathroom and looked at his reflection. A worn man, green eyes and scruff and beard and bags under his eyes looked back at him.

It didn't feel like him, like Derek, not anymore.

So he just grabbed the straight razor and the mug with soap and started removing the beard. Stroke by stroke. Line by line. Memory by memory. Burden by burden.

When he was done, he splashed water on his face and the man - the boy? - that looked back now looked, well, like a puppy. He even dared to smile. He just needed to think of Laura to do it. A small smile, yes, but it was there.

He grabbed the sink with both hands, steeling himself. He closed his eyes, and drew his breath. He opened them again, and looked at his reflection.  
"I did not kill my family. Kate Argent did." It still felt hollow. He thought of Laura again and he felt like she was looking at him behind his eyes, telling him to continue. "But I did wrong Isaac, and Erica, and Boyd. And Scott."

He said it once, and he had to grip the sink so hard his nails - claws - cracked the ceramic. He said it again, and the sink was gone, but he refused to back down. He said a third time, and a fourth, and a fifth, and tenth, and twentieth, and he kept saying it until he realized he was late for his shift at the cafe.

He even said it when he went to Home Depot to get a new sink and a book on how to fix your own bathroom.


	4. The Sheriff (II)

While his day had not taken a turn for the better, it had definitely taken a turn for the funnier. He was not supposed to find hilarious to see a Federal Agent squirm under three teenagers of questionable attitude but the fact that said agent was a piece of scum he had not wanted to interact with anymore made it all more palatable.

What was the word? Stiles had given him once a thirty minute lecture about it and how it didn't have any direct translation into English and how you had to be careful about doing it because it could be misunderstood as true delight when sometimes it meant harmless fun (like him and Scott, he would say, whenever Scott would fall for one of his pranks) but in this case it was pure joy what he was feeling. He tried a bit too hard not to laugh, but something must have shown because the glare Rafael McCall gave him was one of astronomical proportions.

Ah, yes. Schadenfreude.

First he had gone after Stiles. Bad idea. If you wanted to crack Stiles you needed to tire him down, something that could be accomplished easily by leaving him on his own for a while - with nothing to do his own ADHD would crack him into babbling at some point and from there it was just a matter of picking up the pieces. But idiotic McCall had to go to him first, when he would still be relatively calm, thinking very well and focused on what had just happened, and of course Stiles would keep enough of a calm head to ensure that all his derailings would not go towards the subject. Though John had to give it to McCall for managing not to slap Stiles when he started giving him a job review on parenting (he agreed with it wholeheartedly) particularly since it hadn't been related at all to whatever the question had been.

Second, McCall had gone to Allison. John immediately realized that she had been under similar interrogations with her father because all her answers were composed, curted, minimal and exact. Like watching the opposite of Stiles, actually, or the other side of the same coin. If McCall had gotten angry at his son, he had definitely gotten frustrated with her.

Where the hell was Chris Argent? He had called him as soon as he had reached the station and he said he was going to be there as soon as possible to try and bail them all out.

Third had been Lydia. Where Stiles had used his own randomness to confuse McCall, and Allison had used her own cunning to prevent herself from answering, Lydia had just sat there looking at Rafael like royalty looking at a peasant. McCall was completely unable to get a word out of her, not even one, and the more he insisted the more her demeanor changed from annoyed teenager to otherworldly being bothered by an amoeba. Having seen it happen from behind the two-way mirror he was surprised McCall hadn't pissed his pants. He was about to.

"What is wrong with these children? They are so..."

"Smart?"

"Hardened. They've done this before."

"Yeah, pretty much. I had to enforce a restraining order on Stiles and Scott not too long ago, Allison's father is a security consultant in the weaponry business so I'm pretty sure she's gone through drills to prepare her for this and Lydia, well, she is Lydia Martin. For all we know she has all the knowledge required to receive a law degree and it's just stalling for her own benefit. Like, getting admitted to Harvard or Stanford and then graduating in a semester or two."

"My son had a restraining order filed against him?"

"Your son? I only mentioned mine."

Sometimes he wondered how much of the mischief had gone with Claudia. He had been a prankster and a rascal in his youth, but a lot of that had been washed away with the whiskey down his throat.

Stiles got half the genes from him.

"Scott."

"He's no son of yours, Rafael. Melissa raised him and I was there when you weren't. Tell me, is he still closing the door every time you knock?"

"Listen up, Stilinski, I won't take any crap from you..."

"Good! Because I won't take any from you. Now, are you done with these kids? You haven't got anything to hold them."

"I can still hold them for 24 hours."

"No you can't - they are not suspects."

"They still haven't given me their declarations."

"You got Stiles' and Allison's."

"Stiles told me how much I suck as a father and Allison merely confirmed the presence of four people in the field and finding the three bodies. You know they know more - and I won't let the Martin girl leave until she says something. And where is that kid Greenberg?"

"Good luck with that. I'm having them released now, I don't give a damn about you."

"Stilinski..."

"McCall..."

Rafael came closer to him and lowered his voice.

"Stilinski, you have no idea what's going on in this town. A lot of people are dying and a lot more will follow if you go against me."

"Is that a threat, Rafe?"

He hadn't used the moniker ever since he had seen him go, too much venom it carried. Rafael noticed, because it had been an old game of theirs.

"No, John, it's not a threat. It's a fact."

John left him there and went to open the separate cells where the children were contained. He still made a signal that they should not talk in the vicinity and sent them home. He had not expected Lydia to sit down in the bench in the foyer and take out her cellphone. Neither had Stiles nor Allison, apparently.

"Lydia, can we go now?"

"No. I'm still waiting for my lawyer."

"Lydia, we were let go."

"And I really don't want to be within fifty feet of that creeper."

"Stiles!"

"Dad!"

"Lydia? There you are, I am sorry for taking so long - my wife was affected - Stilinski, what the hell is going on with this town?."

"No worries, Mr. Whittemore, we were just let go."

"Care to explain to me why this young lady was arrested, Stilinski?"

John just felt a cackle coming from his lungs and did an inhuman effort to keep it down. If there had been one relationship that seemed to replay every single generation was that of the Whittemores against the McCalls.

Definitely schadenfreude.

By the time Whittemore had been done with McCall and finally taken the kids away, the Sheriff was buried deep into more paperwork and logistics related to the case. The CDC still couldn't find anything related to a cause of sickness but they had finally deemed it not airborne so they were at least more sympathetic with the whole 'keep people locked up' and all immediate analyses of water sources indicated that the water supplies were fine. They were still looking, though, and he feared that it would take more than a few weeks.

He was starting to lose control of the town - and these whatever they were that now were attacking them were not shy to involve the whole town. The mere idea scared him to death.

They had no morals.

His shift was supposed to end at midnight. He hadn't been able to leave his desk before three. He was barely standing by the time he got into his cruiser and started driving towards his house. He hoped Stiles was already there so he didn't have to worry about him.

Thing is, he hadn't driven to his house. Somehow he ended up at the McCall's. And more interestingly, when he had realized that - and the fact that he was getting out of his car - the front door opened to reveal Melissa holding a clay mug.

"You were waiting for me?"

"I knew you were coming, I don't know how - or why, and yes, I'm positively creeped out about it. Here."

"Magic coffee?"

"Grandma's recipe. I even got the good bottle out."

John had never been exactly a fan of tequila but whenever Melissa made cafe con piquete he would not say no. Maybe it was the balance between the sugar, the cinammon and the coffee that masked the bitternes of the liquor and made it far more enjoyable. But instead of downing it in one gulp - as he would usually do - he started sipping it. They walked inside.

"Do you feel that?"

"What?"

"I don't know - something. Like a murmur, or a whisper."

John tried to perk up and yes, there was something there. He looked at the bundle of teenagers that was sleeping on the couch and saw that the coffee table was covered in ash and soot. Then, Stiles moved - he used to do that a lot when he was sleeping, he was surprised no one in the couch had woken up yet complaining - and the soot started moving as well. He and Melissa watched in wonder as the ashes merged with the walls of the house.

"Did my son just do magic?"

"We'll deal with it in the morning. C'mon, help me cover them up."

They got blankets out of the linen closet and covered the intertwined teenagers with them (Stiles and Scott's legs were a weird knot by now) and moved into the kitchen. They didn't even talked for a while, just enjoying the coffee - and each other's company.


	5. Scott

"Hey mom, Sheriff."

"Hi, honey."

"Hey Scott - sit down. I'm trying to eat bacon before Stiles wakes up."

"Well you'll have to inhale it or something, I couldn't wake up without waking him up - and now they are all coming. Need any help mom? We have to feed - "

"A small army. Stay away from the - "

"Magic coffee?"

"Magic coffee."

Scott went to the coffee maker and started a batch of regular coffee while Stiles and Lydia came through the door.

"Hey, dad! No bacon for you! Ooooh, coffee!"

"Not for you, bucko."

"Magic coffee? When are we going to be old enough to drink magic coffee?"

"When you stop stealing bottles of Jack Daniels to get Scott drunk."

"It was one time! Wait, how do you know about that?"

"I can count. Now give me that bacon."

"What can I help you with, Mrs. McCall?"

"Can you take the milk and the butter out of the fridge, Lydia, please? Toast should be ready in a minute."

"Is that bacon?"

"Here, Isaac, have my dad's."

"Stiles!"

"Stiles, for the love of God, let your father have some bacon, it's not going to kill him. Isaac, honey, can you make that thing you do with the greek yoghurt and the strawberries?"

"The parfaits? Sure - Lydia, can you?"

"On it!"

"Anything I can help with, Mrs. McCall?"

"Get the cereal out of that cupboard, Allison, and some bowls from out there. Scott, bring some chairs from the dining room."

"OK."

Ten minutes later they were all sitting down in the small kitchen table sharing a breakfast that included cereal, toast, bacon, eggs, creamed kale, spinach, strawberries with yoghurt and chopped mango. And coffee - lots of coffee. They were all laughing at everyone's antics (particularly Stiles') and it looked like a big, happy family.

He wondered where Mr. Argent was. He had been the least to participate in activities like this, but it felt weird, having all of the pack together but him.

They all detected his silence for in a second they were all looking at him.

"Allison, where's your dad?"

"He called me when we were on our way here - he said he was sweeping the town, trying to see if there were any more triggers to the spell. He also said he wanted to stop by the hospital and have a good look at the bodies. He's probably at home right now, resting."

"Did he show up to the morgue, mom?"

"No - or at least, I didn't see him, we all know how sneaky can he be. So, we are going to talk about it, aren't we?"

"We have to - first of all, we need to get on the same page. Second, I'm scared of this. It's too much."

"They literally attacked the whole town just to see what we would do."

"And if they were keeping an eye on us, now they know that we are Pack. All of us are in danger."

"Let's... let's review everything that's happened."

Scott let Stiles tell their portion of the story, from Greenberg all the way to the Hale manor. He never forgot to tell Lydia about Laura's apology, and the Banshee's answer had been that she would have her revenge. Lydia took over to explain Deaton and Morrell's ghost and the school, including her scream. His mom actually gasped in horror when she explained how she had felt their death when wailing - it was not the first time, true, but it had been the most vivid so far. Stiles had gone pale reliving it, but Scott noticed that it was the first time Allison reacted to it - so she hadn't felt it like his best friend did. By the time she was done he nodded to Isaac and let him tell the story of how he had seen his father's ghost, it had become a revenant, and how Camdem appeared to rescue him. When he mentioned his brother Lydia perked up and asked him how long after he had left the clinic had Camdem appeared.

"I don't know, maybe twenty minutes?"

"That's when I started feeling weird - like I was in two places at once!"

"Well, this is gonna sound weird..."

Everybody, himself included, made a face at Isaac. It couldn't get any weirder than what they were experiencing right now.

"But I heard the woods talking to me."

Scratched. It was getting weirder.

"The woods?"

"They told me to think of someone, and I thought of Allison and Scott, but they said they were not - available? I thought you guys had abandoned me like Cam, and they latched onto that. They said that she could bring him back and that's when Camdem showed up."

"Do you think they latched onto me to bring your brother back? But I was in the other side of town!"

"Still, we are surrounded by woods. They surely had access to you."

"Do you think they also used Lydia's powers to give him the werewolfness?"

"The what?"

"When he was fighting Isaac's dad, there was a point when he became a werewolf ghost."

"How is that even possible?"

"No idea. I felt my power going to him when I took Isaac's hand. He used it to keep the revenant at bay because we couldn't touch it."

"Maybe the spell worked backwards, just like the Hales managed to get us to their heaven?"

"No - he came back. He couldn't before because he bore no ill will for anyone. He had to be summoned. Lydia, I'm sorry - I don't know what happened and after Peter..."

"It's OK, Isaac. You didn't know what was going on, and honestly, I would have done it myself. Don't think about it."

Scott knew Isaac would think about it. At least it had been an accident, unlike the one time he used Derek to bite Gerard. He still regretted that.

"So the witches thinned the veil to bring ghosts over. They used that mirror thing and the fact that Greenberg had been a revenant for so long that he could act as a point of focus for all the ghosts to come over. God, we are fucked."

"Stiles, language. What do you mean by using Greenberg? There is no Greenberg living in Beacon Hills, the Greenbergs left when their son was killed -"

"In a hate crime. He told us." Lydia finished explaining the situation with the eternal teenager. His mom was crying and the Sheriff rubbed his face - and proceeded to tell the story of Richard Greenberg, and how had he died in the hands of a man who thought being gay was an affront to god. Interestingly, the town rallied against the man and you can say that's the point where Beacon Hills became a haven for all of them, having reached the point now where they - the teenagers - didn't even mind. By the time Isaac was done they were all quiet and drank their coffee in the memory of Greenberg, even if they were still going to see him when they opened the school again.

"Dad, any news on when will they open the school again?"

"The CDC lifted it's curfew last night, but since the event originated there - as well as the crime scene, at least today should be confirmed to be closed. I don't know for how long, though. And we have a problem - McCall is definitely onto something. Last night he was coming from the woods when he got to the school - and it took him a suspiciously long amount of time to get from the school to the station. He's also aware that Greenberg was not picked up as a witness - I'm assuming he just disappeared."

"What do you think it is?"

"I don't know, but I'm afraid he may be interfering with all the comunication lines to and from the station."

"Can he do that?"

"If its part of an ongoing investigation, theoretically, yeah - although he would need an order from a judge to make it valid. I'm not sure it'll stall him too much, you know. He has some sort of upper hand in this."

"OK, then, what do we do?"

"Let's take this in parts. We know they are witches - we need to find them before they strike again. I'm not liking the easiness they are doing all this - like they don't care if half the town dies or something."

"I think they don't. Hm... Can we ask Deaton to help us with a spell to pinpoint witches?"

"That's too broad - we need to understand how they work - what witches are working against us."

"I'll go talk to the bookstore owner - she definitely knows something."

"I'll talk to Lorena. I mean, I don't want it to be a subject of our date..."

"Stiles..."

"No, Scott, it's OK. Maybe I can convince her to help us?"

"If that's the case make sure you tell her you saw your mom's ghost - we are sticking to that story."

"What? Why?"

"They wanted to attack us. They must know I'm a werewolf - I don't believe that the tale of a True Alpha hasn't spread out, even if we haven't said anything to anyone - and the Argent surname is associated with hunters, so it's probable that they assume Allison is involved. You are just the Sheriff's kid, a human who is beginning his training as a druid - if possible, hide that too. No need to broadcast that you run with wolves."

"Alright. I already told her about becoming a druid, though."

"Isaac, Allison, we need to make a round around town - look for any signs of people disappearing, activities that are not familiar, scents that we don't recognize. Anything that looks or smells or feels out of place, check it out."

"Sure."

"Got it."

"Mom, are you working your shift tonight?"

"Yeah - why?"

"I was wondering if you and the Sheriff wanted to come with me. I need to talk to Deaton, I need to try and understand what the Hales meant with the woods having their own magic, particularly after what Isaac said. We need to know about all the magic that is going on around here."

"I can't come tonight, Scott - particularly if your dad is monitoring us - he will keep an eye on us and see when we skip out of the line."

"I'm also busy tonight, we'll have to do it later."

"Alright, then I'll go with Allison and Isaac."

"Speaking of the devil, Stiles, were you doing magic last night?"

"Huh, what do you mean, dad?"

"I don't know if I was too tired but I swear I saw the mountain ash in the living room moving on its own when you were asleep."

"I saw it, too."

"I feel it." Everybody turned to look at him, and Scott was looking at Stiles. "You enchanted this house, Stiles. It's protected. Just like Deaton's clinic."

"Wait, does that mean we can't get out? The last time I was within a circle of mountain ash - made by Stiles, by the way - I couldn't get out and I had a kanima trying to kill me."

"He was not trying to kill you - remember? I was there, too. And I don't know what you mean, I was just asleep."

"What were you dreaming?" Lydia asked. Stiles looked at her like she had guessed a secret and couldn't believe her.

"I was... I dreamed of my mom."

In a gesture Scott hadn't seen in years, the Sheriff immediately went from having his elbows on the table and leaning against them to lean back on the chair and open his stance. Stiles walked to him and hugged him and the Sheriff hugged him back and they all let the two men cry.


	6. Danny

"Danny?"

"Hey..."

"How did you find out where I live?"

"I... may have hacked the school database?"

"So you really are a criminal, huh?" Alex kissed him and moved from the doorway. "Come on in. I should apologize, I have nothing to eat - I almost always order something because I am crap at the kitchen."

"What about your allergies?"

"I hired a catering company to cook for me. I pay them, what did they call it, handsome tips."

The first thing Danny noticed was that his boyfriend was limping again - his cane was propped against the couch, not needed inside - so yesterday's strut was definitely adrenaline fueled. The apartment was bare. It was not empty - it had furniture and was decorated with weapons and nature portraits - and it was not IKEA - the table on which Alex's MacBook Pro was opened was probably as expensive as Danny's car - but all in all it had this air of muteness, of emptiness, like it was all a set of a TV show - and one that had an uneven budget, or had not realized how expensive the table was. It was more living quarters than home.

Danny didn't snoop. He just liked to pay attention to his surroundings. Even if that included noticing the little things, like the way weapons hung on the walls, easily available, or the way the furniture favored lounging rather than sitting, or how there seemed to be a decent cabinet of wines, liquors and other spirits in the apartment of an emancipated man that hadn't reached 18 years of age. Or the lack of pictures. He sat gingerly on the couch and grabbed the cane. It was black, the wood felt soft but heavy, and it seemed to be under one metre of length. What was more fascinating was the handler, a repousse et chasse silver grip enclosing what seemed to be a large onyx if it weren't because it was matte and grainy instead of black and shiny.

The whistle of the kettle startled him. Alex chuckled at him - he had been looking at him check the cane.

"Hey, chill, it's just the tea pot. Here, these are the menus from where I order - what do you want me to get you?"

"Nothing - I'm fine. I came to check in on you."

"Because of yesterday?"

"Dude, I was affected too."

"Really? Who did you see?"

"My ex-boyfriend."

Alex raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Instead he proceeded to finish preparing the tea and sat in the couch next to him, tea set in the coffee table. He put his hands in front of him and Danny placed the cane in them.

"Malacca. It's soft but very tough, but it needs a core to be attached to - steel in this case. That's why it feels heavier than what it looks like. See the rings here? The segments are used to strengthen it so when I lean into it I don't end up crushing it. That's why I prefer it over those canes that are one piece."

"I was gonna say that either you got very low quality onyx or they shafted you when they built that handler."  
Alex laughed, like he hadn't expected to hear that. "This? This was a gift, babe, from a very wealthy and not easily fooled man. And this guy over here is not onyx - but good eye. It's carbonado."

"You are joking."

"No, I'm not. Technically I walk around with over a couple thousand dollars as a walking aide, but I've become too accustomed to it to go back to the orthopedic one. Besides, I think it gives me a look of poise and personality."

"Makes you look like a nerd with your newsies hat."

"Ha! Like you don't find it attractive!"

"Yes, I do." Danny loved when Alex laughed, because he let himself out of those scars that seemed to imprison him within his own body. It was weird to look at him without the whole get up - here he was, shirtless (a fact that Danny found very distracting), in pajama bottoms and barefoot. The apartment was warm from all the sunlight that came through, all the curtains open but all the windows closed, keeping the cold at bay. He looked more vulnerable - just the way he looked when he was about to break and confront his ghosts - and Danny wasn't sure if he found it fascinating or reassuring.

Like he was seeing him be a real boy for the first time.

Alex picked up on his look, because he let himself be looked at more openly. It was the first time he hadn't purposely tried to shy away or hide.

It was his apartment. It was a safe environment.

"You are beautiful, you know that?"

"I'm not, Danny, but thanks for saying it."

"Alex..."

"It's OK, Danny. I'm loving you more just for thinking of me like that."

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah. I mean, last night was no picnic - I think I actually had to cry myself to sleep, can you imagine that? But yeah. I mean, whatever it was, it seems to be a one time thing, or that's what they've said on the radio so far, and I hope to God it is true because it was awful, but yeah, I'm fine now. What about you?"

"You babble when you are nervous."

"I have the hottest guy in Beacon Hills in my apartment and I'm serving him tea shirtless because I forgot to put on a shirt - yes I am nervous! Now I need to go put on a shirt."

"No!" Alex looked at him. "I mean, you don't have to, unless you want to, but I'm OK with it and if you were OK with it you can still be OK with it..."

"And now who's babbling?"

Danny blushed and took a gulp of his tea.

Danny was not used to this. Having come out when he was thirteen he had gone through a fair share of embarassment and blushing and awkwardness that had ended when Jackson forced him to join the lacrosse team and train with him, allowing him to bloom into a well toned body. Also the fact that, since he was protected by Jackson's social umbrella, he could have whatever boy he wanted and it turned out half the lacrosse team and two thirds of the swim team were curious about him. So yeah, Danny was usually the confident boy that could bring someone out of their embarassed state and make them feel comfortable - not the guy who would babble at the hotness of his boyfriend or the fact that he didn't seem to believe it.

When the fuck had Laka decided to turn him into this?

"His name was Ethan." That took Alex for surprise, his expression changing to a more somber one. "We started dating at the beginning of the school year. I thought he was just another student - he and his twin brother registered and we shared some classes - but it turned out he was a member of a gang that was after this serial killer - I don't know if you heard?"

"Jennifer Blake? Yeah, I heard, it was national news, and man, that was so messed up."

"Well, Ms. Blake - sorry, she was my English teacher - she wanted to kill Lydia. Ethan's twin, Aiden, was... not dating her, more like a sex with benefits kind of thing, but that made her precious to him so they went and protected her and that's when Blake killed both of them. Lydia managed to escape because Scott found her."

He would have to check with Lydia to make sure the version he told her matched in case Alex and she talked about it.

"How on earth did Scott survive? Have you looked at him?"

"Hey, behind that puppy face is a lacrosse player. And when he gets angry..."

"He yips?"

"He howls."

Alex expression was half amused, half scared. Danny remembered that there hadn't been any lacrosse games for Scott and Isaac to display his werewolf powers, so of course Alex was taking everything at face value. Those werewolf powers he was not supposed to know about.

"Anyway, back to the point. Ethan died. I saw him."

"When did you find out what he was?"

"At his funeral."

"You are kidding me."

"I wish I was."

It felt odd, telling half truths to Alex. He wondered how much would he talk with Jackson if the arse had actually told him about werewolves. He guessed he would never find out since the idiot was in England and didn't even bother to send an email or an IM.

Every once in a while Danny wanted to hack into Jackson's personal account and unleash trouble. He had to contain himself. It was very hard.  
Alex had started to look away, at the window, like trying to find the courage to say anything. The moment Danny was about to say he didn't have to, he spoke.

"I saw my father. My mother died when I was twelve - when I started boarding school. My father said that it was that what worsened her health. She had always been frail and according to him the melancholy of not having her baby boy with her destroyed her. It didn't matter that I had been happy - I was at one of the best boarding schools in the country, and my mother had been so happy for me because I was going to get what she called a wholesome education. For three years my father would only be my legal guardian, and no more. I still loved him. I still love him - he was much different when she was alive, true, but I like to think that he never stopped loving me - he could have kicked me out of the family and nobody would've batted an eye, particularly not after the scars." Alex wiped a tear away. "He died and I became the heir to a fortune and a lot of baggage. I... I had no one but my scars and a lawyer that cares more about the money making more money than myself. I went through a very rough phase, partying and drinking and you know what's worse? Mocking. Because the society where I was born and raised valued beauty over anything else, and these scars are not pretty no matter how much make up I put on them or how do I dress to try and conceal them. I was a pariah, an idiot who would buy seven hundred dollar tequila bottles and try to flirt with the models in New York who probably thought I was a delusional child trying to buy my way into their world. They were not that far from the truth, I guess, I was trying to buy my way back. My hallucination was my father telling me how much of a disappointment I was."

"God, I'm sorry - that sounds awful. All that."

Alex smiled at him, but it was that bitter smile that he used sometimes to answer questions in World History, like he had been there and it was a bad memory.

"The world doesn't smile to a broken boy, Danny. It waits for him to pick up the pieces just to laugh at the glue he used."


	7. Chris

Chris Argent had decided that this problem was getting out of hand. Witches willing to attack a whole town just to see how a bunch of teenagers would react definitely fell on the "chasing us" portion of the old Argent code, which meant he had to do something, even if Allison wouldn't. He hadn't talked to her about it yet - he wanted to protect her still. He knew she was with everyone else right now, so he could patrol the city without worrying about her.

He had felt the pull, the need to go with them, to assemble as a pack, but he fought it. He was not a wolf - even if these were wolves willing to protect the innocent and not the creatures he was raised to believe, he still could not stomach the idea of working with them. He would train Melissa and the Sheriff and counsel Allison as much as she - and they - needed, but he would not join their ranks.

He started at the school, after the Sheriff Department and the FBI had left the premises. He found very little trace of magical activity, except for the glass shards that were ignored by the evidence collecting team. Blood had dripped from the bodies onto the grass below. There were no prints, no tracks, nothing he could follow. They were good.

He looked at the dumpster behind the mall one more time. Again, he found nothing - he half heartedly expected something to appear the same way the scent had been released hours after the body had been slaughtered. He thought that just like the magic protected the murder from being traced by Lydia maybe it protected something that could help him and said protection would vanish later.

Again, he found nothing.

He went last to the morgue. He didn't want to encounter Melissa McCall - she was too emotional and he needed to look at this in an objective manner. Again, he rued the fact that McCall had not been trained before - her quick wit and ability to think outside the box made her a formidable woman, but letting her emotions take the best of her made her a liability in most of the cases. He considered talking to Stilinski but he was dealing with Agent McCall now, and needed to be in his full capacity to prevent him from finding about the supernatural.

He couldn't help but feel a little guilty when he recognized the bodies. Even after Allison called him to let him know what she had witnessed he couldn't prepare himself to the hit he would take.

He hadn't met them for long. He had heard of Anastasia Van Norman before, a good leader of a small pack of hunters that traveled up and down the West Coast, true believers of the code and seldom involved in bloodshed or territorial problems. When they had come to talk to them they had been pleasant, charming, and Allison had seem to take a like of Anastasia, which is something Chris had been happy to see since she needed more role models in the hunting world. Kate had been a disaster and Victoria had not been a hunter in front of their daughter.

The wounds were very specific. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. See the ghosts, hear the ghosts, speak to the ghosts. He had seen the effect on the population: people seeing dead relatives, been affected by them, hearing the ill the departed felt towards the one that were still living. He was surprised to see that a lot of people were affected, and there didn't seem to be a pattern to those who weren't except for maybe providing a service: the police department, doctors, guards. He himself hadn't been affected - at first he thought it was a pack thing, because he knew a lot of his ghosts had grudges against him but when Allison told him that Isaac had seen his father he had to rule that out. The gash on their necks was used to draw the blood out, which meant that these witches were not amateurs. Blood magic was very easy to botch and in the particular scale they performed it would be very easy to do so. The lack of more bodies meant that they were fairly precise in their use of magic.

He could gather no more information from the bodies. He left the morgue without being noticed, and waited until he was in the car to let out his frustration.  
It was already morning when he finally left the parking lot of the hospital. He drove aimlessly until he found himself at Minnie's. He went in and ordered a veggie omelette with fruit and a cup of coffee, hoping the food would take his mind away from the problem ahead.

"Mr. Argent, is that you?"

He looked up to see Sabrina Warren standing right next to his booth. He immediately got up and said hello to the woman, and his chivalry forced him to invite her to sit with him even if he wasn't feeling particularly chatty.

"Oh, thank you - I am running away from home this morning, it was a complete ruckus with the massive hysteria and I think we all need a moment away from each other to breathe a little more easier. What about you?"

"I wasn't affected but I didn't feel like going home, thinking of all the ghosts that could chase me if I went there. I don't even have the heart to face my daughter at the moment."

"Oh, dear, you should! Is she alright? You are the only one she has right now, and she's the only person you have. You shouldn't avoid each other - no matter how horrible our sins, family is the only one that can forgive us."

"What if we can't forgive our family?"

"What do you mean?"

He didn't know why but he felt at ease with her. Omitting the obviously dangerous details such as werewolves and kanimas, Chris found himself telling her about how his family had gone against everything he had been raised to believe, and how his own daughter was teaching him much more about the human nature than he was supposed to teach her. He found in Sabrina a sympathetic ear that didn't criticize him or looked down to him or feared him; just a woman that understood that he was a father trying to do the best thing about his daughter.

"Well, I don't know what else to tell you but go to her. Talk to her. Find comfort in her - I can assure you she needs to find comfort in you." She gave him a warm smile and proceeded to eat her breakfast, a mixture of different fruits followed by a bowl of granola with coconut milk and finished with two soft boiled eggs with red sauce. They kept talking about random things like the weather or the state of world economics or how to fix a clogged sink. By the time they were done he had accepted to go back to her house that same afternoon for a cup of coffee and maybe another slice of that pie her mother made.

He called Allison as soon as she had left the diner - she had to go continue with the opening of her gallery. Her daughter answered immediately, worried about him. He placated her and talked to her about what they knew, and what was their plan: Stiles was to look into his witch date, Lydia would look into more books, Lahey and Allison would patrol and therefore he told her that they should come to him before they did so he could let them know the little he had found, and Scott and the Sheriff would go consult with Deaton. That seemed like a good plan.

He drove back to his apartment and talked with the kids. He knew that if he forbid her of patrolling she'd do it anyway so he'd rather have the communication open. He didn't tell her about meeting Sabrina later.

He took a long shower and freshened himself up. He hadn't realized the day had gone so far - what had he done today? - and then he was driving back to the Warren manor.

He was barely out of his car when Sabrina opened the gates and welcomed him with a smile. He just followed her without questions.


	8. Lydia

"Are you sure you want me here?"

"Of course I want you here. Why wouldn't I want you here?"

"Well, I'm a girl, and you are meeting a girl. There's this thing called jealousy, Stiles."

"I don't get it - I mean, yes, I was in love with you before but now we are good friends, why wouldn't I want to show you off? It means you areawesome Lydia, and I want the world to know it."

"I already know I am awesome, I don't need every single person in the world to know it before I get my Fields Medal, thank you." Lydia couldn't help but smile, though. She liked this Stiles, that was sweet to her without worshiping the ground she walked on, completely different from the boy he was at the beginning of the year and for the past seven. She did know about him, she paid a lot of attention to her surroundings - a necessary movement if you wanted to rule middle school and high school - but he had always been this guy she never dedicated more than a couple minutes a week of thought. Now that they shared so many secrets - and he had finally looked at her and not at his idea of her - she couldn't help but be glad that they were friends. Which is why she was afraid that Stiles had decided to meet with Lorena at the book store just so they could also be researching (and in case they got her help, ask her) about the spell. If Lorena saw her as a threat, she may not want to try and date Stiles any longer, and she wanted Stiles to be happy. After all they had been through, the fact that he seemed to find someone to like him was something she was not to take away. Even if she still had that nagging feeling that it was too much of a coincidence that he had met her just when the shit had hit the fan. "I don't want her to have the wrong idea."

"Lydia, I may have carried a torch for you before - and maybe I am still, I don't know or understand my feelings - but right now? You are my friend - sorry, Scott is still my best friend - and more importantly, you are someone I care about very much. Maybe like a sister. So if I am going to introduce you to my date - Is she my girlfriend already?" Lydia shook her head while touching her make up, "I'll do it because you are awesome and I want to share the awesomeness that you are with the world the same way I kind of want to share Lorena with someone and well, this stupid thing is not letting me organize a double date with Allison and Isaac and maybe Scott - hey, do you have any idea what's going on there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have you seen the looks Isaac gives Scott?"

"Jealous?"

"Of him taking my place as best friend? Maybe. Of him eye fucking Scott every time he uses his alpha voice? Nah, thank you - Scott and I would never work."

"What about you and Isaac?"

"Nope. Dunno why, it's not like he's not cute. I think I have a better chance with Danny."

"Har har, with him dating Mr. Lithe Hunk?"

"I am lithe!"

"You are also annoying to Danny."

"Am I at least attractive to him?"

"Why do you ask me?"

"Because he never really answered!"

"And you think he told me or what?"

"Well, you used to hang out with him a lot, when, you know..."

Stiles wisely didn't say his name. She didn't want to talk about him.

"Well, Danny wasn't exactly that forthcoming about his boyfriends. Bear in mind that he never dated anyone from the school, although from the rumours I've heard half the lacrosse team and two thirds of the swim team turned out to be... curious about him."

Stiles sniggered, and then they were both flat out laughing. It wasn't even funny - maybe it was the context.

"Back to the point, are you sure? I can just go straight to the counter, you know?"

"Nah, it'll be fine. Besides, we are a pack, aren't we? If she likes me she'll have to like the whole pack."

Stiles parked the jeep and they both got off. Lydia decided to follow him - he was the one with a date after all. They found the girl talking animatedly with a guy that looked out of a college football team.

"Stiles!" The girl - Lorena, Lydia assumed - actually jumped and went to hug him, but they both flustered and fail until they finally got it. She couldn't help but mutter 'they are being awkward together' and found a sympathetic look in the big guy.

"Stiles, this is my brother, Andrew."

"You two don't look much alike?"

"I'm adopted. Nice to meet you, Stiles?"

"Yeah, my name is quite difficult to pronounce. Guys, this is Lydia. Lydia, Lorena, Andrew."

Lorena did size her up. Lydia couldn't help but put on her bitch face on - she was not to back from a challenge.

Oddly, the fact that the girl could be jealous of her felt so oddly normal she was willing to pursue it.

But then the girl proceeded to hug her and Lydia couldn't help but feel surprised about it. And maybe a bit touched.

"Nice to meet you Lydia!"

"You need to forgive her, she forgets that not all people are that comfortable with close personal contact. Andrew." The boy extended a hand to her and she shook it. For someone that look like he could crush her he was gentle and suave. She liked him.

Of course she realized a part of her was breathing more easily. She had expected some sort of banshee warning that they were evil and they should run, but they felt surprisingly normal. Well, except for the fact that they were witches.

"So, why are we meeting here?"

"It was my fault, really," Lydia spoke before Stiles could open his mouth, "I'm starting to learn a bit of magic myself and I asked him to drop me here so I could get more books before he were to met you but he insisted on me meeting you and well, when he gets an idea nothing, and I mean nothing, can make him change his mind and here I am. I'm sorry if I'm intruding."

"Nah, it's alright. Burly here wanted to meet Stiles as well, so now you two can hang out or something. Unless we are doing something specific?"

"Why did your brother want to meet me?"

"Just so I could give you the standard threats. You know, 'hurt her and I'll rip your heart out' both metaphorically and realistically"

Stiles just saluted at the man who took it as an answer. Lorena grabbed Stiles hand and started walking with him through the aisles while Lydia and Andrew just stayed there looking at each other.

"So... you want to learn magic?"

"Are you a witch too?"

"Kinda. More like an idiot who drabbles."

"Sounds interesting from someone who comes from a family of witches."

"I was adopted well into my teenage years. It's part of the reasons why they adopted me - they got me out of a nice hellhole I created and took me under their wing."

"What about your parents?"

"Hellhole."

Lydia's eyes widened a little bit. So he had killed his parents by accident?

"Did I scare you?"

"Yeah. I mean, I know magic can be dangerous but holy shit..."

"Yeah, that's why I'm asking. It's not a good idea to get into it if you are not supervised. Trust me, it's one of the things you want to have parental units available."

"Thanks for the advice."

"No biggie. And what kind of magic are you looking into?"

"Ghosts."

"Ah. Were you affected about that thing that happened yesterday?"

"No - but he was," she motioned at Stiles who was definitely having fun with Lorena, "and since he knows nothing about it I decided to look into it."

"He was? Who did he see?"

"Not my secret to tell, I'm afraid."

"Fair enough." He proceeded to tell her a lot about ghosts - nothing new to her who had obviously read her fair share of books after she realized what had happened with Peter, but she realized he didn't mention - or didn't know - anything about summoning them. They chatted for a while - until he mentioned he had a previous engagement and asked Lorena if she would be OK to get to their house on her own. His sister waived him off, completely enraptured in her talk with Stiles. When he was finally gone she proceeded to the main desk where the girl - she ought to ask her name, now, with all her visits - was waiting for her.

"Hi! What can I do for you?"

"Answer me this - are you a witch?"

The girl cringed, and instinctively looked at the store. There was nobody but them and Stiles and Lorena, but she still dropped and started whispering.

"Look, I know you are part of the local pack and I don't want to get into any trouble with the alpha..."

"Wait, what?"

"I was not part of it, I swear!"

"But why would you get in trouble with the alpha?"

"Because I'm a witch, and it's obvious a witch did this - more likely a coven - but I swear to mother, all I want is to settle nearby. I know of the Nemeton, because I can feel it but for me is enough - I am not looking into getting its power, I swear."

Lydia felt odd. It was one thing to have the student body and several shop owners terrified of her, and a completely different one to see a young woman trembling for her life just because she had asked a question.

"I'm sorry, I'm not following your logic."

The girl looked at her, fear still in her eyes but a little of assurance creeping in the corner of her sight.

"I know about the Nemeton - probably all of the people who just moved into town know about it. And trust me, most of us don't need to tap into it - after all, it's a well of magic, being nearby should be enough to satisfy the thirst of most magical beings. But whatever happened yesterday was done as an attempt to rat out the guardians. You." She shook her head when Lydia was about to speak. "You guys have come and gone too many times through those doors for me not to see what kind of things you were researching. I'm assuming there are wolves, and one of you must be a banshee - I gave him my books about it. Even the moonsinger belongs to your little group, doesn't he?" Lydia flat out wanted to ask her what a moonsinger was but the girl was on a roll. "I'll help you as much as I can because I really don't want to get into trouble, and really, I hadn't realized how much I would love to be so close to such power, but I really don't want to die. Please."

"We are not going to kill you! We don't do that! Don't you know that the alpha of this area - and the guardian of the Nemeton - is a true alpha?"

"No way!" The expression of the girl was of such incredulity that Lydia made a note to ask how rare were the true alphas. "It's - that's - I mean, wow. A true alpha?"

"Trust me, we don't want to kill anyone, we just want to find out what's going on and prevent any more events like yesterday."

The girl looked at him, no longer fearful but sad.

"They are going to kill you. All of you."


	9. Epilogue

He immediately felt everything different.

Before he had left, the woods would still sing for him, albeit a very weak song, like they didn't bother about him anymore. Like he was an afterthought. Like the only thing that mattered was the Hale blood running through his veins but he himself was not to be obeyed, just observed.

But now, the woods were not only not singing for him - they were actively rejecting him.

He tried to go to the old Hale manor and see what was different. He was having problems just walking there - he didn't dare to become a full wolf in these woods that leered at him and mocked him and tried to trip him with roots in places where he was sure there shouldn't be any or animals running through his path like critters trying to eat his shoes. Not even growling at them deterred them - he was rejected from the very place that had seen him born, that had seen him grow up, that he had loved and it had loved him back.

Those same woods were calling him an abomination right now.

He had left on the Crone's orders, looking for some ingredients for her spells. A Fermat's curse is a work of wonder and has to be done right, otherwise you'd end up botching it and killing the host too early and we don't want that in this case had said the Crone. He already knew that, but he was sure she wanted him away while she confirmed who were the guardians because she didn't trust him. And very well she shouldn't - he wasn't even sure he trusted himself completely. Something about coming back from death addled your brains, and it definitely marred your soul.

It was alright. He was patient. He would let the witch have her sanctuary as long as he regained his territory.

As long as he was the Alpha Hale.

Furious at the woods now that a parcel of deer had sprang at him, he sniffed the air. The woods gave him no strange scent - they were hiding something. Someone. He would find who had invaded his home and rip them apart before he faced the Warrens again. They could wait a little. After all, from what he had heard they had overdone themselves a little bit last time - they needed to lay low unless they wanted the FBI on top of them. Or hunters like the Argents.

Maybe he should just sit back and let them all rip each other apart and just feast in their flesh.

He wondered how long before the FBI tried to contact him as the last Hale enforcer. Hopefully they wouldn't contact Derek - the pup had no idea of the role of the Hales as supernatural enforcers of California. If they came to him first he might keep them away enough to bring his plans to fruition.

Finally he got to the manor. And, yes, there was a car there - McCall's. So it was Scott who was taking the place of the Hales - but that was as the Guardian of the Nemeton. The woods would certainly not disobey the Hales that had bonded with them for so long that they recognized them as saplings of their own, as creatures that roamed in their wake like all the other animals instead of the humans that had come and ravaged them.

Again, he sniffed - the scent of his former beta was as familiar to him as any Hale's, and he could even recognize Melissa's perfume if she were in the middle of the hospital. Again, nothing.

Anger boiled in his veins. This was no longer an affront to him but to his family legacy.

He went and opened the door. Inside he found the woods already spread over the manor, like a hundred years had passed since the fire - not the mere seven that were about to be.

In the middle of it all a crouched Melissa McCall was looking at a sapling - a young oak, that would probably one day be magnificent.

He tried to sneak up on her. A branch didn't let him do so. She stood up and turned away from him, looking for refuge in the depths of the manor.

"Melissa."

"Peter. What are you doing here?"

"This is still my house, Melissa."

She blinked at him. "No, it's not. It's... Derek's."

"Well, without Derek here I'm the last remaining Hale. You are in private property."

"Again, not yours."

There was something odd in the phrasing, in the way Melissa was talking to him. Like she was talking for someone else.

"What is going on, Melissa? Is... is there someone else in here?"

"You mean in my head, the way you invaded Lydia's?" Peter grimaced - they would never let him live that down. It was beyond their comprehension that he had just done everything to ensure his survival. He had no ill will against the girl, just undying admiration at what she could do - and what she still didn't know she could do. The most powerful member of the McCall pack was a little girl with strawberry blonde hair and she was his. He would claim her as soon as he was an alpha again. "No, Peter, I'm all alone. But I am pretty sure my son, my alphaalready felt my distress so I'd suggest you leave before he gets here and attacks you." As if on cue, her cellphone rang, and she made a flourish to get it out of her pocket. "Yeah, Scott. No, I'm not fine - I'm in the Hale manor and Peter found me. I don't know why I'm here - I just felt compelled to come. Yeah, honey, I'll wait for you."

Peter growled. What he needed the least right now was a confrontation with Scott. He was still an omega, and if he couldn't draw power from the woods like he had been doing all these months then he would be squashed by the teenager in no time.

"Don't growl at me, you monster. Get out of here."

His anger took over him. A little scratch, maybe, just to remind her who really was the alpha of this territory.

His claws came out. Her eyes opened wide.

She touched the trunk of a tree that had grown through the walls.

"I said GET OUT!"

But it was not she who had spoken. It had been the woods, through the voice of their new mistress. Their power boomed in her voice.

She was not alone.

Suddenly he felt small and insignificant. If the McCalls were the masters of the Preserve then there was truly nothing there for him anymore.

He ran, and ran and ran until he could feel himself in an area that was not theirs. And there he howled a promise of vengeance.

Nobody robbed Peter Hale of his birthright. Not even his family - he had shown Derek that.


End file.
